My mother and I circa 1988 Encino CA.
Both my parents have passed away. My father died in May 1991 in Tehran, Iran and my mother died in March 2008 in Glendale California.
After my father's death my mom moved to the United States and settled in Glendale. At the time I was dealing with a difficult situation in my own life so one of my older sisters and my younger brother helped mom with her needs. When she arrived she already had her Green Card so they applied for a social security number, medical benefits, and SSI income. I don't remember when it started but suddenly I was the one who was taking care of my mom's needs such as shopping for groceries, clothes, furniture, and doctor visits. I also took care of her bills and hired and paid health care aids when she became bed ridden with Alzheimer's. When I started taking care of her I had an eight year old daughter and a 16 year old son. I was working full time and taking night courses for my bachelor's degree. I don't know how I did it but I did.
In 1987 my in-laws moved to America and after living with us for 4 months they found an apartment in Pasadena. During their stay my husband and I took them everywhere they needed to go. Visiting family and friends, shopping, and looking for a place to live. Both my father in-law and mother-in-law had significant health problems, so my husband often spent entire days in hospitals. From the time they came in 1987 to the day my mother in law passed away in December 31, 2011 both my husband and I helped her with everything. It was as though we had to live two lives, one our own and one that was theirs.
When older people migrate to a new country they usually don't speak the language, they don't know about available resources, they don't drive, they have limited income, they don't have the support systems they had back home, so their children become everything to them. Specially when they have just arrived, every issue is pressing, because they want to establish their life and get on with their living.
Never mind that their adult children have families of their own to take care of, never mind they work full time, never mind they have their own health issues, never mind they are struggling with finances. Parents come first.
In Armenian culture and most middle eastern and far east
countries parents have a esteemed place in their children's life.
We have seen our parents take care of their parents, often living under one roof. We would never think of abandoning them and moving away for a better climate or better job opportunities. We feel that after raising us, we have an obligation to help them in their old age and do all the things they can't do for themselves.
Sure it was difficult managing two households, sure we felt resentful sometimes, often the one day off we had would be spent doing something for either of our parents. We were young but we were always hanging around older people. We tried to include them in most of the things we did but sometimes it was not fun. At times it seemed our lives revolved around them instead of our children or our needs. The word "no" was not in our vocabulary as far as our parents were concerned.
I know that having the responsibility of taking care of our parents and our children at the same time has taken a heavy toll on my health. I lived with anger and resentment so long that I became bitter and disengaged. From time to time my sisters and brothers helped, some more than others but I felt most of the responsibility.
I have often wondered how could they think that it was okay for one person to take on so much without cracking under the pressure, I still don't know but all that is in the past now.
My husband had no choice and no one else to share his responsibilities. His brothers live in another state and could not help in any way. But even now my husband says he wished he could have done more for his mother. She was a great mother and mother-in-law and she deserved the best.
These days the conventional wisdom is everybody for themselves. As long as the individual is happy the hell with the rest. Most young people often barely tolerate their parents. I don't know what goes through their minds, I'm not a mind reader but it seems they think sharing will lessen their enjoyment.
I didn't write this to toot my horn, it's not meant to endear me to anyone, and it certainly is not to say I was a good and dutiful daughter. Millions of sons and daughters in the world have done and are doing the same. Someone coined the phrase "the sandwich generation" for this phenomena. I also wanted to note the differences of expectations in different generations.
As parents we love our children no matter how old they are, we miss them, we want to witness their happiness, their success, and celebrate their life's milestones. I'm grateful and fortunate that I can share and witness my adult children's precious moments and important occasions. But not all parents are so lucky. Like poor, old and hungry baggers they shuffle along hoping for morsels of love, for a brief glimpse through the window of their children's life and an occasional nod to the memory of a life they shared when the children were young.
